On the First Day of Christmas
by CallmeCordelia1
Summary: The members of the Valois family come together to observe a few holiday traditions.


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: Happy Christmas, darlings! This is just a little something inspired by my abundance of Christmas spirit! I promised chelseall83 a little something for being so sweet and supportive and this is it! I hope you enjoy!

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She smiled, giving him the slightest nod as his wide eyes met hers. Charles returned the nod before licking his lips and opening to the page marked by his finger.

 _"Fac-factum est autem in diebus illis, exiit edictum a Cæsare Augusto ut des… des-crib-ere-tur universus orbis."_ His voice grew stronger and more confident as he continued reading the gospel according to Luke. Catherine gaze drifted over her family, all wrapped in furs and curled up before the hearth. Little Hercule was sleeping soundly and beside him on the chaise sat Claude. Margot had planted herself firmly between Francis and his bride-to-be. Catherine's eyes glistened for a moment when she noticed Francis mouthing the words along with Charles. All at once she saw her seven year old golden child, his eyes following his finger across the page of the family bible and reading aloud in broken Latin, much as Charles was now. This was a Valois family tradition, one Henry had begun in the early years of their marriage. Reading the first few verses of the birth story had since become an honour passed down to each of the children in turn. This year that honour went to Charles, but Henry would always finish the chapter. She would never admit that his voice was still one of her favourite sounds. More than that, this tradition was theirs. It was one of the few remnants of their former happiness that remained untainted by Diane's presence.

Catherine allowed herself a glance out of the corner of her eye and was surprised to find he had been watching her. Candlelight and nostalgia illuminated his features and he seemed for a moment to be the gallant young prince who had so easily claimed her heart. A brief smile- benign if not warm- played across her lips before she returned her attention to their son. It wouldn't due to entertain sentimentality.

Much as she tried to focus on her son's words, heat rose in her cheeks at the consciousness that Henry's gaze was still trained on her. Mercifully, Little Henry squirmed up onto her knee, his milk sloshing precariously up the side of his cup, and provided a welcome distraction. As she settled the little one comfortably in her lap and shushed his oopsie's with a kiss to the crown of his head, Catherine listened intently to Charles' stuttering recitation. When he finished his part and looked up with a sigh of relief, she led the applause.

It took Henry a moment to snap out of his reverie and accept the bible that Charles passed to him. Patting the cushion next to him, the King waited for his son to curl up at his side before continuing the birth story. He had long since memorised the passage and so when she finally looked up, his eyes were free to hold Catherine's as his deep voice flowed over the words. For a moment it was just they two, observing the close of the year as they always had.

Catherine's eyes flitted away again when he finished.

"Maman?" The boy in her arms turned and took her face in his hands. "Is it time for le gâteau?"

The celebration of the Twelve Days, stretching from Christmas to the Epiphany, was a time of great feasting and celebration, but the crowning tradition this time of year was le Gâteau des Rois. The King's Cake, a large, round cake with a single bean hidden inside, was distributed to the servants on the final night of the festivities. The recipient of the bean would enjoy the all the luxuries of royalty until midnight.

She returned her son's gesture, cupping his full, cherub cheeks. "Le gateau is eaten on the _Twelfth_ Night, mon chers yeux, and this is only the first. You know that." When his bottom lip poked out in the most adorable of pouts, she lowered her voice to a whisper. "But I _may_ have had a small cake baked just for tonight."

On cue a small ring of cake arrived, just as they all knew it would, and the family gathered around the table to claim their piece. It was yet another Valois tradition, this one more recent and had been instated several years ago to quell the children's pleading. The King's cake was reserved only for servants and although the royal children reveled in their part, namely distributing servings of cake and watching with anticipation to see who had the bean, they longed to have their turn to rifle through pastry in pursuit of a bean. The family cake, unlike that served on the Twelfth Night, had a bean in each serving in order to avoid squabbling.

Once everyone had their piece- _and each piece had been measured to ensure that no one's was bigger than Margot's_ \- they began to eat. Charles was the first to find his bean, having devoured his slice before anyone else had a chance to take a bite. As was their custom, he placed his bean at the centre of the table and shared one thing from the past year he was grateful for and one thing he wished for in the coming year.

"I'm grateful for getting to go on the hunt with you, Papa." He'd talked of little else since Henry had brought him along on a recent hunting trip. "And in the coming year-"

"I found a bean!" Margot proclaimed, holding her bean aloft.

"Very good, chérie. You will go next." Catherine put a finger to her lips to remind Margot to wait her turn. "Carry on, Charles."

"In the coming year I wish to get my first stag."

"Trying to show off? I didn't get _my_ first stag until I was eleven." Francis tossed his bean at his little brother.

"That's just because you rode out with your mother and she shot them all before you had time to mount your pony." Henry's good-natured teasing was a welcome change from their usual bickering and Catherine shrugged playfully.

"If you hope to best me, Henry, perhaps you should wish for better aim in the coming year."

Francis and Mary looked on with surprise at the laugh shared by the King and Queen, but Margot could be counted upon to bring them back to the task at hand. "I still have a bean!"

"Yes, of course, dear. Go ahead."

"I wish for a new purple dress for Marion."

Catherine fought to stifle her amusement. "'I'm sure your doll will receive many new clothes this year, but you've forgotten to tell us what you're grateful for."

"I didn't forgotten, I just like to say my wish first." Margot, even at age three, was never one to follow convention. "And I'm grapeful for my hair growed very long."

Mary hid her smile as Margot flipped her golden ringlet over one shoulder. "It certainly did. Long and beautiful."

"Now can it be my turn?" Little Henry had been shifting in her lap, anxiously waiting for Margot to finish.

She produced a handkerchief to wipe his sticky fingers. "Have you found your bean?"

"I askdently swallowed it."

The laugh she had smothered earlier finally erupted and soon spread throughout the group. "That's all right. It can be your turn."

"I'm grateful for mon chiot." The puppy that had been his birthday present received an affectionate pat as he licked up the cake crumbs his master had dropped.

"We know." Charles rolled his eyes.

Ignoring him, Little Henry burrowed closer against his mother. "And I wish… ummm… Can I save my wish?"

"Of course." Catherine laid her cheek atop his head. "You may save it until you're ready."

"Well then, I'll go while you think on it," Francis said. " _I_ am grateful that the Venetians have accepted our new trade deal."

Catherine and Mary wore matching looks of pride. The dauphin had been gradually taking on more responsibility and said trade deal was one he had negotiated on his own.

"And I wish for similar success with the Bavarians."

Mary glanced at Little Henry, whose brow was still furrowed in deep contemplation. "I suppose it's my turn. I'm grateful that, for now at least, the Scottish border is secure. And I wish for a fresh fall of snow so that we can all go sledding tomorrow." Mary and Francis had promised the little ones that, weather permitting, they would take them sledding in the morning.

"Yes, oh yes, oh yes!" Margot was on her feet now, reclaiming her bean. "I wish that, too! A new dress and sledding!"

Once Margot had quieted, Catherine turned expectantly to Claude.

"We all know I'm grateful to be back at Court where there's actually something to do with one's day and wish never to return to _dreary_ life in a convent."

Henry fixed her with a warning stare. "In the spirit of the season, your mother has generously overlooked your most recent misbehaviour and brought you home."

Claude appeased him with a somewhat contrite, " _I truly am glad to be home."_

After a beat of silence, Little Henry clapped his hands. "I thinked of my wish! I wish to dance at a ball!"

"And perhaps you shall." Court balls tended to stretch into the early hours of the morning and drunken debauchery was hardly uncommon, but perhaps the princeling could join them for the first few dances before being ushered off to bed. Seeing joy alight his little face, Catherine knew she would find a way.

"Now it's your turn, Maman!"

Little Henry placed her bean on the table for her. "I am grateful for the health and happiness of my family and wish for us all to enjoy another year of the same." No one was surprised. Every year the tenor of her answer was something to this effect.

"Papa go!" Margot instructed. Her turn having passed, the princess was losing patience with this game.

"If Her Highness insists." Henry's voice rumbled in her ear and Catherine turned in surprise to find her husband sliding closer to her. Her surprise was doubled when his arm settled across the back of her shoulders.

"I am grateful that, like Margot, my hair has grown long a beautiful." Peals of laughter rang throughout the room and the King ran a hand over his shorn scalp.

"And I wish…" Feeling his gaze turn on her once more, Catherine's breath hitched. "I wish we had some mistletoe."

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AN: So the 'queen of the bean' thing was derived from an actual holiday tradition which I described above. Also, even though the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe hadn't come into practice yet, it was viewed throughout Europe as a symbol of love and peace so I included it (& I like to think Henry was ahead of his time when it comes to mistletoe lol)


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